Spendy

Since I've been back, I've gone on a mini shopping spree. Not that I've actually bought anything extravagant: a new cheap watch (the old one broke); aluminum water bottle (half the price I'd seen them for before); antiseptic ointment (maybe that doesn't count); pajamas (too pricey--but on sale); and several pastries (yum!). It's probably a reaction from hanging out with Kent all these weeks. Since he was short on funds, we kept expenditures to the occasional museum, meal or drink. Also, I don't think he's a big shopper under any circumstances, and I'm not either, but it was still fun to go and pick up a couple of things that were semi-needed.

One more item on my list is a new date book. As a treat, I'd gotten myself a nice Moleskine one that covered September '08 thru December '09. I brought it along on our travel adventure and managed to lose it. It was the only thing I lost the entire time--a bummer because, not only did it have lists and addresses and opening hours for all kinds of things I want to do in Paris, I also had my carte de sejour tucked into its inside pocket. Whoops. Let's just hope that I won't have a problem getting back into France after my next trip to London--in two weeks. (It was the temporary card, which means that, someday, the permanent one will arrive, otherwise I'd report the loss to the police.)

On Monday night, with great effort, I dragged myself to an expat happy hour. I was meeting American friend, Nadine, there or I probably wouldn't have made it. Anyway, it was good to see her, and another acquaintance, and mostly the three of us chatted. The place was insanely crowded and the vaulted basement ceiling was so echo-y that I thought I was going to lose my mind.

A young man walked by and half smiled at us. I gave him a full smile and said hi, then he said hi, Nadine said hi and we all started talking. As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew he was Australian (correct!) but he didn't look Australian (his parents are from Sri Lanka, but he's a native).

After spending so much time with Kiwis I have a funny reaction to meeting Australians. First, I want tell them that I've been to Gallipoli. Next, I want to give them a hard time. Now, the piss taking (s**t giving) usually occurs place between men (and not even all men), so I couldn't go there, but, really, what was I thinking? I'm not a Kiwi. What I did say was, "My boyfriend's a Kiwi so I feel like I should give you a hard time." He laughed and said, "Oh, right. Russell Crowe. They don't like that we claim him. But who wants him?"

I laughed too, because he was right. "Exactly what I said--'are you sure you want to take credit for that?'"

He also mentioned that he was looking for people to drink with (he wondered where all the other Aussies were) and I thought it was a shame Kent wasn't there. Later on, Nadine got his number and they're planning to try out the Australian bar in Paris (it has three branches!) sometime. Possibly, I'll even be invited.

PS Did you notice that Kent left comments? That's a first! He's the best.

Grateful for: getting out of the house.

Life in the slow lane

Since returning to Paris, I've been in a cocoon.

On Thursday night, I met Dara for dinner at 9:30pm. I had actually already eaten since I made a quick grocery run earlier in the day. I just had a salad.

In theory, we were supposed to go to a hear some hip-hop DJs around 11pm. After a good conversation (you know I had some stories to tell), we headed to the nearby club.

When I realized the cover was 22 euros, I decided to call it a night. Luckily, Dara was meeting another friend so I didn't feel like I'd abandoned her. It just wasn't going to work for me--I was exhausted (still) and feeling frugal. Also, hip-hop DJs? I'd say the odds were only 50-50 that I would have enjoyed it. (As Dara and her friend stayed out until 3am, I think I made the right call.)

The next day, I stayed home. I focused on my knitting. I got completely unpacked. I intended to do laundry, but that didn't happen until today.

On Sunday, I met another American friend, Nadine, for a late lunch. We don't know each other well, but we had a good time and I talked her ear off as well.

While it is good to be standing still and have a comfortable warm bed to sleep in every night, I can't help but feel a little lonely. For the last month and a half, I had constant company. And I liked it.

I've always needed a lot of alone time and even when I wasn't choosing to be alone, usually, I didn't mind. But, now, maybe it's a reaction, but I'm feeling lonely. I have plans tonight. I'll have dinner with my landlords sometime this week. I can go to a (hopefully English-speaking) knitting group on Wednesday. I can go to the movies...that would probably cheer me up. In less than two weeks, I'm going to England to see Alicia for American Thanksgiving. I'll see Kent then too. Next month, I have an old friend coming to visit. And so on...but all that isn't making me feel any better.

I also would have hoped that my cold would be 100% gone by now, but it lingers. It's not terrible but I'm awfully tired despite sleeping fairly well the last few night. Soon, hopefully, it will really be gone.

It feels ridiculous to complain at all about being in Paris. I'm still happy to be here. I still like my neighborhood. I'm not looking forward to going home or starting work again. I just would like to have more company in the meantime. Sigh.

Also, please scroll down for some more entries about the last week of my travels. It's not scintillating stuff but Kent said he would read and comment (right--he may not but he said he would), so you might find something a little more interesting there eventually.

Grateful for: the calm.

Home=Paris?

Just a quick note to let you know I'm back in Paris, had a great trip and I have quite a lot to say but not much energy to write. I've spent most of yesterday and today relaxing and planning my NEXT trip, plus taking care of household chores. Ah, the mundane tasks do pile up when you take off from your regular life for a few weeks! (Even when regular life consists of doing a whole lot of nothing.)

What's next: one or more posts about the last week of my trip. A little bit about the man I've been traveling with--but how much, I'm not sure. And, yes, he is my boyfriend. All of you who predicted I'd meet someone, you were right. I didn't expect it, I wasn't looking for it, but it happened.

That's it for now. Thanks for your patience.

Grateful for: home base.

Turkey: Days 7 & 8

We arrived at the Istanbul bus station about an hour before schedule, at 6am. After checking on the bus schedules for Sofia (to make sure the guys could get there easily to catch their flight to London), we took a long, crowed tram ride back to the hostel.

Even though, the bus ride was easy, I was still beat. The bulk of the day was spent resting. In the evening, Kent, Tom and I had dinner together. We carried on drinking for a little while, though I stopped after my second beer. I went back to the hostel a little earlier than the guys…but it wasn't a very restful night. I was leaving the next day for Paris and I was sad that our trip was at its end. Even though I knew I'd see Kent again--at least one more time--it really hit me that this was the end of a great adventure. (And that I'd miss him--a lot.)

The next day, we started slowly, but I insisted that we get some sightseeing in before I took off for the airport. Kent half offered to accompany me there but we agreed it was too much (and would have actually interfered with his timing for catching the bus).

We spent a few hours walking around the Grand Bazaar, eating lunch, drinking coffee and going over the last week's events. I haven't mentioned this, but Kent is something of a diarist. He makes an entry for each day, though not necessarily every day--meaning he often plays catch up and makes several entries at once. Sometimes, I'd go over events with him, helping him remember what we'd done or seen on a particular day. His diary is more a record of what happened each day, in contrast to the writing I do, which, while it is also reportorial at times, is more likely to delve into my feelings about what I did or who I encountered. Still, I admired his consistency and I wished I had a little more of that ethic about my own writing. On this day, though, Kent helped me make a few notes about what we'd done each day in Turkey since I hadn't written anything since we left Greece.

After walking around, we went back to the hostel. I was packed and we just hung around a little with Tom up on the top floor, drinking coffee and chatting. Kent worked on his diary and I read a little. Eventually, I had to go catch the tram to the airport (as is my wont, I'd opted for public transportation over a shuttle). Kent carried my bag to the tram stop (the first time I'd let him!) and he waited with me until the next one arrived.

(Aside re: trams. The trams are unlike any I've seen elsewhere. They operated on a "closed" system. That is, in order to get to the slightly elevated platform where you catch the tram, you have to go through a gate that requires a token. You don't pay on the tram.)

Kent waited with me outside the gate and we said our goodbyes. When the tram came, I quickly got through the turnstile and squeezed on--Kent watched and he waved goodbye. I waved too.

The trip to the airport was uneventful, though I was a little worried at the transfer stop. I had to get onto the one subway line, which involved walking a little over a block away--but there were no signs directing me for most of the walk. Still, I knew it had to be near, I'd asked and in the tram the stop was marked as a transfer point. I did ask myself why I had to do it the hard way and why couldn't I just spend four euros on the shuttle? But, I found the subway soon enough and even though the ride was long, it let me out at the airport--no more transferring or shuttling involved.

Security was interesting. The first check point was before I entered the terminal. I'd brought a small paring knife on the trip and they dinged me for having it. I promised to check my bag and they let me through (and I got to keep the knife).

Once I checked in and checked my bag, I still had some time to kill. I spent it mostly spending my last 20 lire--on food.

Going through passport control I was asked if I were going to keep traveling or stay in Paris. I was also asked if I'd been traveling alone. Odd. On the Paris side, no questions were asked.

The trip was fine and full meal service was provided. I even took advantage of the free alcohol and had some wine with dinner.

Getting back to Paris meant another long journey on public transportation--the suburban train (RER) to the Metro and then a ten-minute walk home. But I made it, no problem, and was here, safe and sound by midnight.

Grateful for: home base.

Turkey: Day 6

We got up early so we could get to Ephesus before the hordes of tourists. We weren't successful, even though we arrived by 9:30am. All the tour groups were German or French--so we couldn't even eavesdrop on their spiels.

Still, we spent a couple of hours looking all around and it was fantastic. Kent and I wandered in to a slightly separate area and somehow got off the official path. Tom was looking for us and, apparently, so was a guard. We were clueless.

We'd gotten a ride there by one of the pension owners but we decided to walk back. The plan was to see some of the sights in Selcuk, take care of travel plans via the internet, and catch the night bus back to Istanbul.

By this point, I'd bought my air ticket to Paris and I was departing from Istanbul on Wednesday. Kent and Tom had hoped to get tickets to London the same day but had run into some snags. In the end, they got to London via Sofia. After we got back to Istanbul, they took a bus to Sofia on the same day I left and flew from there. An exhausting but more economical option than flying from Istanbul.

It was unseasonably warm and we got pretty hot on the walk back to Selcuk. The town was very quiet but everything was open. We got some lunch, did some internet business, and then took a walk around to see the sights.

In the town, there's a big fortress on a hill and some Roman ruins. The fortress, we'd been told, was closed to the public, but we wandered in its general direction anyway. As we walked through the narrow streets of the town, away from the center, we got plenty of stares and were asked several times where we were from.

Quite near the fortress, a group of young guys started talking to us and said they'd show us how to get there. In fact, we were led to a hole in the storm fence that surrounded the place and we walked right through.

Up on the hill, a couple of horses were grazing but it was otherwise still and empty. We had a great view of the town and felt pretty adventurous for getting to see this forbidden place. (Kent took plenty of photos.)

As we were leaving, Tom was talking with our guide, who then proceeded to ask us for five lire each. Fine. We paid. He then tried to get more money from us and I muttered, "We met your price. No more money." We didn't give him any more money.

We hung around town, got some supper, read, etc., until it was time to catch our 10pm bus to Istanbul.

While I worried about the overnight ride, it was one of the easier overnights I had on the trip. I'm not sure why--maybe I was getting used to it?

Grateful for: access.

Turkey: Day 5

Another long travel day. We thought we could take a bus straight from our town to the next place on our itinerary, Selcuk, which is near the ruins of Ephesus. Unfortunately, when I went to check on the timing in the morning, the bus we were planning to take was sold out. That meant we needed to take a 10am ferry to Canakkale where we could get the 11am bus to Izmir, from which we could catch a mini bus to Selcuk. I found this out at 9:30am.

I went up to the room to tell the guys, but the door was locked. I ran down the lobby and asked the staff where they were, "Internet café!" I dashed across the street to find them…and said we had to hurry.

A note on the internet café: we all had financial and other business to take care of on the internet, which is why they were there. When we first visited the place the day before, we found a room full of 14-year-old and younger boys sitting at about a dozen computers. It was quite a scene.

Since we were all mostly packed, we did manage to get on the 10am ferry and make all the necessary connections. On the last leg of our trip, the shuttle to Selcuk, a young university student befriended us. He asked where we were from and seemed very happy to meet a couple of Kiwis (typical in Turkey) and greeted the American with a more muted enthusiasm. Towards the end of our trip, he engaged me in conversation, asking what did Americans think about Turkey and Turkish people. This was tough to answer because I think, in general, Americans don't think very much about Turkey. I said that and that I thought Turkey was in a tough position, caught between Europe and the Middle East. I'm afraid my subtlety was lost on him.

When we got to Selcuk, it was dark. We had a hostel recommendation but we didn't find the place-- instead we stumbled upon the "Kiwi Pension." How could we not stay there? It was a nice place, though quiet. Cheap, clean and…included breakfast.  We were hoping for a little entertainment too, since the place had a very well-stocked video library. Unfortunately, their tv was broken.

While the town wasn't empty, all of the adult male population out that evening was watching a soccer game. We had dinner and went back to the hostel and drank a few beers.  Then, goodnight.

Grateful for: another safe trip.

Turkey: Day 4

Our tour started at 12:30. Kent and I killed some time in the morning eating the complimentary breakfast (more of what they offered at the hostel: feta cheese, another kind of cheese, odd crunchy salami, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, orange drink, instant coffee, tea, bread, honey, butter and jam (in little containers)), while Tom stayed in bed. Eventually, we settled in the lobby and met another Australian couple (husband and wife) who would join us on the tour.

I found it so interesting that the Aussies and Kiwis (and to a much lesser extend, the Brits) attached so much importance to visiting this place. They all knew the names of the major battle sites and the general timeline of events. In fact, talking about it with Kent before we got there, I pretty much knew everything our tour guide had to tell us. Seeing the actual sites, the cemeteries and monuments was very meaningful to my tour companions. I know I didn't experience it the same way they did.

I tried to think of something equivalent for Americans. The D-Day beaches? Perhaps, but it's not a place where we make a pilgrimage. This was like a pilgrimage.  Maybe DC and all of its monuments? I'm not sure.

We got back to the hostel around 4:30 and relaxed for a while before going for a meal with Tom. We were pretty bored. Kent wanted to go to another hostel nearby to see if they had a book exchange. When we got there, the owner and a few of his old-timer buddies were the only people there and they greeted us warmly. We had a beer at their little bar and, eventually, Kent went back to our place and told Tom to come over. We hung out there for a while and then it was late enough to go to sleep--Tom stayed up a for a while watching tv, though. Kent did get a book (he only read half before rejecting it--I adopted it).

Grateful for: new perspective.

Turkey: Day 3

Around 11:30am the three of us, Tom, Kent and I headed out of town to Istanbul's main bus station. We didn't have good directions but, with only a little heartburn, we managed to find it.

Where were we going? Gallipoli. Or near there. Gallipoli is the peninsula. When you want to take a tour of this area, you either stay in Canakkale or Escabat. In the hostel neighborhood, heaps of little travel agencies were selling package tours that included bus, one or two nights accommodation and a guided tour. We decided to piece our own trip together and hopefully save a little money. (In the end, our self-constructed tour was a little cheaper than the package.)

We were disappointed to find the bus fare was more than double what we expected (about 20 euros--a little less than $30), but we were committed. We bought the tickets, got some sandwiches and left on the 12:30 bus.

The ride was over six hours but to compensate, we had a steward who brought us water, coffee (or tea) and pretzels.

We got off the bus in Escabat, checked into a cheap hostel and also signed up for their tour. We were tired and hungry and went looking for a meal. Tom had actually already done the tour, so we went to a restaurant he recommended. Dinner was fine but some unintended hilarity ensued when Tom advised Kent to eat the green bean like peppers garnishing his plate (we all had one or two). "Go on. I ate mine. It wasn't so hot."

Kent took a big bite of the pepper. He started to sweat.

I said, "Was it hot?"

He just nodded. Tom said, "It can't be that bad. Let me try." He munch on Kent's second pepper. He looked like he would explode. I started laughing.

Kent said to me, "Here, you take a little bite. So you can see..."

I said, "I don't think so!"

I took about ten minutes and a lot of sweating for the two of them to get back to normal. They didn't try any more peppers.

Back at the hostel, we tried to watch a movie. The "Gallipoli" movie, in fact. The hostel had about six copies, yet not a single one played more than the opening titles and the first scene. In fact, the only movie we could get to work was a copy of "Troy" dubbed into Turkish. A couple of Aussie tourists, a mother and daughter, were also staying in the hostel and they stopped by to chat with us--and ended up watching "Troy." Kent, who had seen the movie once or twice already, did a very accurate (and amusing) on-the-spot translation.

Everyone was drinking beer, but I got to work on a small bottle of ouzo (already half drunk) that I'd picked up in Greece. I'm not sure how it happened, but I got a little drunk and missed the bulk of the translated Troy. I slept well that night.

Grateful for: drinking buddies.

Turkey: Day 2

Our second day in Istanbul started slowly because Kent was a little hung over. I wish I could have slept later but I reasonably well-rested and ready to see a bit more of the city. I hadn't realized how enormous it was--geographically or population-wise (16 million people!).

We partook of the decent included breakfast (bread, feta cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, salami, olives, tea and instant coffee) and got a leisurely start on the day. (It should be noted that we didn't see Tom until the evening. He'd stayed up late and slept late.)

We decided to walk to the NZ consulate so Kent could find out about voting. It was a very scenic walk--we chose a path along the water. It would have been lovely but for the extremely aggressive drivers. After walking quite a ways, we got to a main bridge (but not the bridge over the Bosphorus) that connects the two European parts of Istanbul.  We'd been looking for a ferry but they didn't run to where we were going. We decided we'd keep walking instead of taking the tram. At the bridge, next to the ferry piers, with tons of people milling around, we each got an excellent fish sandwich for 4 lire (about $3).

After our snack, we walked across the bridge and Kent espied an interesting looking tower (I can't remember its name but a tower of some sort has been on this spot for about 1,500 years, though this one is not that old). We climbed a steep hill to get to it and then paid the silly high entrance fee to go to the top. The tower wasn't very tall but because of its strategic placement, we had an excellent view of the city. We saw the falling apart roofs and innumerable satellite dishes of the nearby houses, the cruise ships docked in the bay, the bridges, the little islands and more.

We continued on our way to the consulate, taking in more mosques, well-fed street cats and very lazy dogs. One dog was so lazy that it didn't bother to eat the piece of bologna someone left right by its head. Maybe it was sick.

We were pretty sure, based on our past experiences, that the consulate would be closed--but no! The office was open, but you couldn't vote there--you had to be at the embassy in Ankara for that or download and mail the appropriate forms. Oh well.

Dusk was falling but we stopped for coffee before heading back to the hostel. We caught the tram back and we were dropped only five minutes from home. We met up with Tom again and had a bite to eat. Tom wanted to go out to a club but Kent and I were too busy plotting our travel plans for the next day so we passed. I was asleep by 1am--plenty late by my lights.

Grateful for: a good look at Istanbul.

Greece and Turkey: Day 1

When we last left this travel story, I was in Greece and getting ready to board a night train to Istanbul. Our last day in Thessaloniki, we split up and Kent went to the Allied Cemetery and I climbed a steep hill trying to find (and eventually succeeding) a monastery. We met for lunch and then split again to pursue separate exploring. He tried to get to the Military History museum and I spent most of my time on the internet. He missed his window, unfortunately. We went for a drink--beer for him, fancy coffee shake for me--and tried to watch the sunset over the Mediterranean at one of the many harbor-side cafes in town. It was lovely, but just as the sun approached the sea, it was hidden behind a think bank of clouds. Sigh.

We walked back to our hotel and picked up the luggage. We walked the ten minutes or so to the train station, stopping for a bite to eat along the way.

It was my first ride in a real sleeper car. Well, that's not exactly true. When I was in college, I went on an eight-week tour of Europe that included two weeks in the USSR (that was). On that trip, we took two overnight train rides in six (or was it four?) berth sleepers. Even back then in my late teens I don't recall getting much sleep, possibly due to being on an upper bunk and the worry of rolling out.

On this train, we had a two-berth compartment all to ourselves, complete with a sink and non-functional mini-fridge. This time, I got the lower, but I still didn't sleep well. It didn't help that we were awoken at 2am for passport control (Greece) then at 3am (Turkey) and around 3:30am I had to get off the train and pay 15 euros for my Turkish visa. I knew this would happen--I didn't know that Kent, being from New Zealand, would be exempt. I don't begrudge him that since he woke up too, but he did get to stay tucked in to his berth. Oh well.

This meant that when we arrived in Istanbul around 7am, I was exhausted and grumpy (my normal morning state for most of the trip). I was a bit frustrated when I realized that Kent had the name of the hostel where his friend, Tom, was staying but no address other than the general neighborhood, "It's near the Blue Mosque." We got a free tourist map at the station and some directions to the hostel area and started walking. I tried hard to hide my annoyance but I didn't succeed. Luckily, Kent stayed calm and I was able to relax eventually. Getting coffee helped.

We decided to stop coffee on the way since there was no need to rush. The first two places we checked looked open but were closed. Confusing. Finally, we stopped at a very touristy place with some men drinking beer on the patio. At least we were sure it was open.

We took some outdoor seats as well and ordered coffee. That helped.

We continued walking in the general direction of the hostel neighborhood (and it turned out to be the area where almost all of the hostels, of every imaginable level of quality, were located). We passed a stand selling tourist-type goods: carpets, pottery, little glass beads to ward off the evil eye and a young man asked where we were from and where we were going. Kent stopped and talked to him. The man asked if we had a reservation and then Kent asked him where the hostel was…and the fellow gave us directions. I have to say that even though the selling in Istanbul was very aggressive people were also very helpful and friendly.

The directions were good and we found the place easily. Tom, however, was no where to be seen. We checked into a dorm, put our stuff down and hopped on the computer for a few minutes. Still feeling sick and tired, I lay down for about half an hour. Kent came to get me when he was ready to go exploring and we had lunch then took a walk all around the area. Kent took plenty of pics of the buildings and I took pictures of cats.

When we got back to the hostel we asked about Tom again and learned that he was probably still asleep. Somebody mentioned that Tom might be down the street at nearby bar--so we walked over, had some soup and a beer and waited. About an hour later, Tom showed up.

Now, Kent hadn't exactly explained to Tom who I was or that we'd met before. I met the two fellows in Warsaw--something like two months ago now. When Kent introduced us Tom gave me a look and said, "Don't I…didn't we meet?"

I said, "Yes." A few moments passed.

Tom said, "Warsaw?"

"Yes."

I knew he'd remember me when he saw me. I always thought it was odd that Kent hadn't been a little more forthcoming. Tom and I proceeded to give him plenty of crap about it over the next few days.

I could not match the pace of these two fellows when it came to the beers but Kent actually got a lot drunker than Tom even though he didn't drink more. He blamed me--and his lack of heavy drinking over the past many weeks. I didn't feel too bad for him. He felt pretty bad the next day, though. It was no surprise at all that these two spent their first evening together drinking…it was a relief to finally catch up with Tom. The only problem was that he was ready to get the hell out of Turkey but Kent and I were determined to do some sightseeing--and we did.

Grateful for: old friends.